Best Unjustly Poems
Imperfect as we are, how can we
begin to grasp the intensity
of His pain, that immense agony
of suffering for humanity?
To be unblemished, yet have to be
the one to bear such cruel mockery,
body nailed to a cross unjustly,
His heart and soul pierced for you and me.
Those who die unjustly
because of bigotry
because of prejudice
because of unadulterated hate
are never silent
their blood cries out
like the blood of innocent Abel
the anguished cries
"I can't Breathe"
"I'm going to die"
rise
rise
up past the blue skies
to the ear of the almighty Judge
who hears
who weeps
who waits
the Day of Judgement
when all the innocent slain
will live again
and all
who have murdered
who have watched
who have been silent
will answer
the cries of the risen ones
for they WILL speak and say...
"What had we done
that you saw fit
to snuff out our lives
to suffocate out of hate
to pin to the ground
to grind our faces into the dirt
the pain, the hurt
you didn't hear
out of fear
you brought us low
and now, we know
our Defender is near
Judgement Day is here
Why? oh why
did color matter
and not character?
why did ethnicity label
instead of enable
beautiful diversity.
Answer, answer now
No...Wait...be silent as the grave
Listen as we inhale...exhale
Now...Now we can breathe free!"
Eileen Manassian
In honor of George Floyd
Dancing to the tune of iniquity,
Deviously artless in their silent retreat,
Elusively lashing out unjustly,
Pelting out timorous creeds;
A casualty in their vapid beliefs,
Brought upon by diligent lunacy,
Primed in erroneous ideologies.
O harlot of colored scarlet hath divided the spoils
The wealthy, well oiled, prophesy uncertainty
Thee measures of barley spoil not the oil or wine
heavenly leaven is unmeasured, care to take a wager
A bird in hand of human man, faith is in the bush
O little bird, swish the bush, faith is not a human wish
I will laugh at your calamities O harlot
I will turn a deaf ear to thy wails of anguish
As a queen thou has ruled unjustly
Ground the face of the poor of earnest contrite
Thy kings shall cast ashes upon their heads
And call for the mountains, “Come fall on us!”
I will loose the yoke of bondage, Love, sayeth Almighty
For it is just in my sight, I have waited for precious fruit
You have remained aloof of un-cloven hoof, relieved not poverty
Of the absolute you have not partaken, or cheweth the cud
Nor forsaken thine own way, Love commands pay...
...of the illusionary substance death of your own logical way
I been seeing my life through a cloudy veil.
Although it was my fault, my own sight I did curtail.
I believed in going with the flow, how could I fail?
Until my soul I taxed with a enormous bill of sale.
Hesitation became a crutch that I demurely hid behind.
Disillusionment concealed from my unconscious mind.
Instincts I ignored, to my ego, that was unjustly unkind.
Creating a hazy web of sorts internally, once all combined.
I lifted the veil and my vision is suddenly crystal clear.
Insight of self, promises an astronomical year.
Finally squelching the doubts whispering in my ear.
Thinking positively, I make a leap in my career.
Independence is now something I truly embrace.
Confidence is stronger, my fears I do solemnly face.
Life is now full of possibilities, no longer an enclosed space.
Lifting that veil, I can now contentedly say, I found my place!
Cecilia Macfarlane
Your not alone in this trying world,
I feel your emptiness.
If I could I would break your chains and carry the burden of your pain.
My heart aches too...
Some day those who keep you will be awoken.
I know your beauty, Ive felt your warmth and witnessed you honor,
Your word is bond- your a man amongst men, an "African King"...
Your courage and strength is commendable so I wrote this poem for you...
They took you life and name once again and replaced them with a number,
out of fear of the king within.
The boots you wear represent the hard road you have traveled, and the road you
will continue on through this life.
The clothes that they make you wear are to hide your beautiful skin.
They want you to hurt, they caged you like an animal, dont let them win!!!
One day you will be freed and ALL will hail the "African King"...
NOTE: Written in dedication to a DEAR friend serving life unjustly...
(And all those unjustly in bondage- spiritually, physically, and mentally)
5-10-1009 Update: The Prisoner in this poem is now free( after 15yrs)!!!!
The scorpions creeping out from words slowly, acutely framing
where judgement claims the higher position unconditionally
lone vulture hanging over its unsuspecting prey ready to pounce
once so blind ambitions reverberates back as unqualified honours least deserved
Pompous narcissistic elements with nonsensical fruitless talent
held within egotism where fools of choice becomes one’s ability
under total admiration publicly declared in lonely self-centeredness
becomes a sterile reflection back to oneself blinded by arrogance
As friends become nemesis’s unnamed obstacles of your vainglorious rise
Sounding echos reverberates a never ending recording of undeserving self-pride
knowing more than all of what is right claiming the false prize for me, me, me
It matters not that lonely superiority must accept the great divide
False praise their claims attention that inflames your senses unjustly wise
crying regrets a prize is a prize nothing to be gained under the sun or moon
striving after winds have blown a gale force within hidden torment
the wreckage that's left after such destruction can only be found wanting
a co written piece in unrhymed quatrains by Donna Loughman and Liam McDaid
I was on the cross at Calvary
The day Jesus suffered and died
An innocent Man who took your place
Was unjustly crucified
No one saw me hide my face
But everyone knew my name
I was the reason He had to die
And you were the reason He came
Everyone is a part of me
From the moment of their birth
Just a whisper in the garden
And now I rule this earth
Nailed to a cross at Calvary
As mercy and grace begins
I am what His blood made clean
For I am all your sins
If I were your love, who deeply cared for you,
I would wipe the tears of anguish from your eyes,
And I would plant poignant kisses on your cheeks,
Telling you, you are my beloved I recognize!
Gone through sufferings for many long dreary years,
From abject loneliness, severe heartache and pain,
I am the only one who can truly fathom your plight,
I am the one who would make you exultant again !
You deserved to be treated with kindness and respect,
Someone cruel unjustly denied you your right,
I would be your true friend, your devoted company,
Your confidant, no more alone you need to fight.
If I were your love, we would find pure happiness
In each other's passionate arms, we trust each other,
All the cruelties in the world - will be defeated
To true fervent romantic love, that's no wonder!
May 1, 2023
"If I Were Your Love" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
FIRST PLACE
The scorpions creeping out from words slowly, acutely framing
where judgement claims the higher position unconditionally
lone vulture hanging over its unsuspecting prey ready to pounce
once so blind ambitions reverberates back as unqualified honours least deserved
Pompous narcissistic elements with nonsensical fruitless talent
held within egotism where fools of choice becomes one’s ability
under total admiration publicly declared in lonely self-centeredness
becomes a sterile reflection back to oneself blinded by arrogance
As friends become nemesis’s unnamed obstacles of your vainglorious rise
Sounding echos reverberates a never ending recording of undeserving self-pride
knowing more than all of what is right claiming the false prize for me, me, me
It matters not that lonely superiority must accept the great divide
False praise their claims attention that inflames your senses unjustly wise
crying regrets a prize is a prize nothing to be gained under the sun or moon
striving after winds have blown a gale force within hidden torment
the wreckage that's left after such destruction can only be found wanting
a co written piece in unrhymed quatrains by Donna Loughman and Liam McDaid
Where Has All The Beauty Gone?
There is no time like the now times,
The ever-present blood-swooshing times.
Time again to surrender as a smitten lover surrenders,
To the never-ending rhapsodies of erotic impulses,
Which exhale as a listless leviathan exhales,
Basking in the swishing waters off the windy capes,
Naked, but kept hidden, in the unknown anterior rooms,
Of a hundred dark mansions in the draping hollows,
Encased with ethereal atmospheres and essences,
In stony gold, glittering emeralds, and smooth diamonds,
All dazzling the senses with spurting explosions of light,
Of helpless exaltations and cooing astonishments;
Now they’re seeking the old nights and the old embraces
In the gaping moonlight, amid intense and timid arousals;
Their blinking black eyes squinting from behind the papered walls,
Of dustless airless rooms with drooping statues of dead poets,
Alive still as they rise again in mythic intonations,
Making suave movements with pointing soft fingers,
Upon the moist nape of blond submitting desires.
Watching in spirit now as they once peeped at lovers;
Peeping and prying and peering from behind infinitesimal holes,
Never seen before by the living or the bereaved,
Nor by the delirious or the unjustly defamed;
Now they just bite us, the souls of the dead boys in blue.
And they watch us from behind those bare walls,
Those breathing twitching snarling walls.
So, where has all the beauty gone?
From the farthest distance of the land
Many soldiers fought in armies
In wars cruel demands.
A governing hand that didn't care
The brutal bastards
Committed unjustly crimes so unfair.
Upon the lands of country's over the world Far & wide.
As the dirty deeds of war were battled
As in parliament they safely hide.
Why should our soldiers ride into a battle
Just because the dirty bastards want to rule.
Why do so many men want to become the targets
& become the governments deadly fool.
If I could make one wish for all the worldly people
I'd wish them to look after the loved families of their own.
Then I'm sure the world would be a better existwnce.
As To the one that we are currently cruelly prone.
Murky masks bled from vile souls,
diffuse spite unjustly, forever lost.
The copyright is ’58;
I’ve owned it ever since.
Its stories, 28 in all,
My childhood do evince.
I likely read it to myself;
My memory has faded
But all the wonder of those tales
My reading life pervaded.
Unlike the whitewashed versions
Of most fairy tales today,
The stories feature cruelty
And malice on display.
Yet recently I found this book
And dusted off its spine
To share each afternoon with
Much-missed grandchildren of mine.
They listen quite intently;
FaceTime lets them see the art
And we bridge the distance which unjustly
Keeps us miles apart.
Full circle now, my book of tales
Still holds its magic power,
Enchanting those who listen during
Nana’s story hour.
I saw a Man today as he walked the hill
Tears and drops of blood did equal spill
From brutally torn flesh and eyes of pain
I saw a Man today my inadequate refrain
I saw a Man today unjustly convicted
His trial was short and clearly scripted
The verdict assured without any proof
I saw a Man today who spoke only truth
I saw a Man today abandoned by friends
Who claimed to be strangers by pretends
Before the cock crowed denying Him thrice
I saw a Man today and words cannot suffice
On a hill called the skull I saw a Man today
‘Father, forgive them’, is what I heard Him say
Through nails and a crown of thorns grace He sought
I saw a Man today the world’s debt He bought
For I saw a Man today more innocent than me
Take up my sentence while I just walked free
He bore the crucifixion cross in my place
I saw a Man today, I looked upon His face
I saw a Man today and He saw into my heart
And took away the darkness and gave me a new start
He broke the chains that bound tighter than the jail
I saw a Man today whose blood tore the veil
I saw a Man today and He died upon that cross
Sacrificed for me and all the world’s lost
He could have called a heavenly army
But I saw a Man today who chose to die for me
Three days past I saw that Man die upon the beam
A death that changed my path it would so seem
And now before His empty tomb an angel doth stand
Why seek you in this place of death The Living Man?